


The Nightbrother

by ashangel101010



Series: The Imperial Family [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Field Trip, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Triclops is Rama Pestage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2020-11-26 00:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashangel101010/pseuds/ashangel101010
Summary: Rama Pestage spends time with his big brother.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing in the Star Wars universe or anything in any universe; I just like writing stories in that universe.

The Nightbrother Prologue

*

_A red and black Zabrak kneels before a human enshrouded in a cloak as dark as the borders of the Zabrak’s tattoos. The Zabrak is a child, no more than ten, bleeding onto the black ground for bending his knees; behind him is a pile of destroyed training droids with puncture wounds revealing their smoldering circuitry. _

_“Rise, Maul.” _

_The boy rises with blood dripping down his talons. _

_Drip. _

_Drip. _

** _Tock!_ **

*

Rama Pestage arises to press a delicate finger down on his chronometer, turning off the customized alarm of ticks and tocks. He rubs the yellow sleep crust from all three of his eyes and then gives Heartless a minute-long hug. He hops down from his queen-size bed and onto the lavender carpet. He quickly makes his bed and gets ready for the morning.

Twenty minutes later, he bounds down the hall with Heartless clutched to his chest. His long nose twitches when he smells the fruitiness of banana pancakes. He latches Heartless in the baby feeding chair and then sits himself down. He takes the folded napkin and puts it in his lap like a little gentleman.

“Morning, father!” He chirps.

“Morning, Rama, did you sleep well?” His father flips the pancake onto a brown plasticine plate; he lowers the heat and then takes out the sifter to rain powder sugar on the golden brown surface of the pancake.

“Yes, I did!” Which is true, but his dream is still stuck in his mind when dreams would’ve vanished by the time he brushed his teeth. He suspects that it’s more than a dream, but he’ll consult his sire about it after the trip.

“Be careful not to spill any of the sugar on your uniform.” His father warns softly, and Rama nods. He takes his knife and fork and turns the circle into dozens of triangles. He spears two triangles and takes a bird bite like a true prince.

“You look so cute in your Chandrila uniform!” His father coos, and Rama soaks it in like the pancake absorbing the confectionary sugar. He gets up and does a little twirl, making his sky-blue sailor neckerchief whirl through the air. 

“I’m a pretty soldier, father!” Rama’s third eye does the magical wink.

*

Darth Sidious pushes his glass of honey wine away at the saccharine sight of father and son. The sweet wine complemented his berry-infused hot cereal well, but he fatally underestimated the private display of affections that the Pestages love to bestow upon each other.

_I should’ve chosen the Vaisamond red wine, perhaps it would quell the nausea in my stomach. _

*

Rama’s smiling face looms in the golden eyes of Heartless. It disappears for a peck and then return for an essence-squeezing embrace.

_“I’ll be back in two days.” _

Heartless doesn’t see him again for another nine months. 

*


	2. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rama is on Chandrila.

The Nightbrother Chapter One

*

Chandrila is a planet laden with tranquil seas, white-sand beaches, and, most importantly, art. The Jarethkin Academy prides itself in giving their students a well-rounded fine arts education. But these are nine-and-ten-year-olds on their first school trip to Chandrila, so they’re naturally brimming with childish exuberance and making lots of noise as the ship finally docks.

“Children, do keep quiet.” Madame Vesta, the headmistress, orders sternly. The children quiet immediately for they know what happens if they don’t heed her first and only warning: the trip will be cancelled and they’ll have to go home. Once the pilot allows them to disembark, they line up in an orderly manner and go silently down the ramp. Miss Kem, Madame Vesta’s Jessar assistant, takes roll call.

“Present, ma’am.” Rama Pestage gives the standard reply. She checks him off on the datapad and proceeds to the next student.

He closes his eyes, all three of them, and enhances his senses with the Force.

The seagulls cry as babies screech at them. The ocean breeze brings in a wash of sweet kelp and nutty coconut oil. The boardwalk kernels pop into hot, salty butter. The canyons darken without its crystals. The clammy, softness of youth tugs onto his hand.

“Rama, we’re going now.” Zev alerts him. Rama returns to the present and sees that most of the class has let them behind.

“Staring into the void, Three-Eyes?” Shella snipes. The Motti scion has never once tried to be friendly with him, even the members of her clique make an effort to be polite to him, but she could care less about the Emperor’s own blood.

“Knock it off, Shella.” Iran huffs. The Ryad countess is part of Shella’s clique, but only because their families do business with one another.

“Zev, you’re so thoughtful.” Onnelly Praji bats her dark eyes, completely ignoring her friends for the Veers boy. Zev ignores her in favor of eyeing a nearby table of wegsphere memorabilia. Onnelly slumps her shoulders at his obliviousness. Shella and Iran join the line, and Onnelly hurries after them with the loud slaps of her sandals.

“What were you thinking about?” Zev asks when the girls can’t hear them.

“The beauty of Chandrila.” Rama says as he walks behind Zev. “What about you?”

“I think Chandrila is beautiful, but it has the worst wegsphere team in the Empire!”

They both laugh.

*

The Hanna Institute of Antiquities embodies Chandrila’s tradition of environmental conservatism. The building itself is made from dead coral and rejected crystals from ages past. The cinnabar and jasper swirl into the pristine white of the coral to make the porous building seem like it’s afflicted with the pox. The neat greenery advertises to-scale holo replicas of its current exhibit: the Brass Soldiers of Axum. The soldiers writhe in frozen terror and agony around the sickness-inducing building.

Of course, Rama is smitten instantly. 

“I feel like this isn’t appropriate for children.” Zev whispers so Madame Vesta can’t hear.

“Art doesn’t care about propriety; it’s just is.” Rama puppets one of his sire’s numerous lectures on art.

“This feels more like a set for a horror holo than an art museum.”

“I know it’s so droll!” Zev sighs in the face of his best friend’s strange enthusiasm for the weird. 

The tour guide awaits for them in the rose pink lobby. Her shaved head has an orange fuzz; she wears white khakis and a thin sweater since the museum is much colder than the outside. Most of his classmates have goosebumps, but Rama feels perfectly fine.

“Welcome to the Hanna Institute of Antiquities. I’m Luh and I will be your guide for this morning. Now, before we start, there are several rules…” Rama fakes an expression of rapt attention, while his third eye focuses on a woman entering the building.

She wears a blue slip of shell spider silk, fabric capable of deflecting vibroblades and certain blasterfire, while red heels peep out from under the dress. Her dark hair is pulled up and spills down into a heart-shaped bun. She chooses to go left and into a small hall dedicated to the shadowy art of Umbara.

_Art thief? Or a fan of the Nenn Sisters? _His curiosity beckons him to slip away from his class and follow the mystery woman, but his sense of decency puts a halt to the impulse. It would be quite rude to leave his class.

_If she’s truly important, then the Force would tell me so. _

*

Lunch is a picnic in Gladean State Parks. Cold cuts and five blossom bread are served on flimsi plates, while the Jeru tea simmers in delicate porcelain cups. The flowering tintolive tree protects Rama from the cheery sun, while the balmgrass cushions his lithe body. He puts a fistful of the soft grass into his pocket for his galactic flora scrapbook at home. The wind blows through the trees and it chimes through the leaves. 

It’s such a tranquil place to dream… 

_The crystals, clear as goodness, refract the moonlight through the canyon until it shines upon a tomb. Dark crystals glow like torches for the coffin, hewn from canyon itself, and for the hooded man hunched over it. His long fingers, spotted and pale with age, pushes the lid far enough for him to gain entrance. From his brown robes, he pulls out a silver necklace with pyramid dangling off the chain. A luminescent, green stone acts as the pyramid’s eye. _

_He falls headlong into Death with the necklace wrapped around his trembling fist. _

Rama wakes to the buzzing of bees swarming the tintolive tree.

*

The Darpa Hotel of Chandrila is based upon its original namesake on Ralltiir and even shares the same sliceable security system. Rama will thank his cousin, Mykro-Chp, for the slicer equipment when he gets home. The amazing Life Day present can also slice into a hover cab droid and control them, so he has a guarantee ride to the Crystal Canyons. He could’ve gone to it tomorrow with his class, but he wants to see if the tomb is open tonight.

And perhaps he’ll have a souvenir worthy of his sire.

He follows the crystals that refract the moonlight just like in his dream. Within an hour, he finds the tomb. It smells musty yet sharp like earth after a rainy day. It’s lit by the dark crystals and gives the room a purple hue that wasn’t in his dream. He climbs up the steps and goes en pointe to reach the coffin’s ajar lid. The green gemstone gleams as though it’s been freshly polished, while the chain contains not a hint of tarnish. There is no hand wrapped around it; there’s no body in the coffin.

He leans in, catching himself with his natural grace, and plucks the necklace from the hard void. He pulls back and grounds his feet. His third eye sees a black and red Zabrak with golden eyes just like his sire. The boy of his dream is a man far taller than he ever could be.

He sticks his free hand into his pocket and pulls out the frozen pieces of balmgrass. He makes them pointed like needles and turns. He flings them at the Zabrak’s eyes; he intends to temporarily blind him and then Force-speed out of there. 

The ice needles don’t even make it halfway. The Zabrak waves a hand, and the needles fall to the ground. With another wave, Rama is hoisted up by his neckerchief and then slammed into a pillar.

He loses consciousness with the necklace wrapped around his fist.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Comments- Here are the links: 
> 
> It took me forever to realize that the costuming for Qi’ra and Evil Jarvis/Vision (who looks so much like a young Rutger Hauer) is probably inspired by Blade Runner, so I decided to use Rachael’s hairdo from the movie for Qi’ra’s in this: [Link](https://cnet4.cbsistatic.com/img/E53T7d0I9mZJb2cq7xRfeZTgXNY=/0x200:3447x3878/940x0/2017/10/20/638ab921-3c3b-4f41-838c-9ef4d37d12fb/gettyimages-110868188.jpg)
> 
> Here is an image of the Crystal Canyons back in the Old Republic, and even then, there were fewer crystals in the walls: [Link](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/0/05/Crystalcanyon.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20070515071857)
> 
> Okay, I was going to have the school’s name be a play on Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, but I was getting nowhere with it and decided to just go with something that would tick off Palpatine. One day, I’m going to write a crack fic of a young Sheev Palpatine meeting Jareth the Goblin King, and let’s just say Jareth knows how to get under the skin of a young Palpatine at the mercy of puberty. 
> 
> Madame Vesta is from Legends/EU; she’s the headmistress of Alderaan Select Academy for Young Ladies where Princess Leia Organa was a student. She made Leia where a wig when the rebellious tomboy cut her hair short. My made-up school needed a headmaster or headmistress, and she was the only with a name I could find. 
> 
> The children mentioned in this chapter are also from Legends/EU. Shella Motti is the cousin of Admiral Conan Antonio Motti and niece to Thessaly Tarkin, also cousin to Conan and wife of Grand Moff Tarkin, and got kidnapped by Nebula Front. However, when Tarkin hired people to rescue her, she refused to be rescued and even paid some people to prevent her own rescue. It is unknown what happened to her after that. Iran Ryad, I presume a play on Ayn Rand, is a countess and learned how to pilot as a hobby, but when the Empire needed pilots, she joined up and became an ace. Later on, she would be executed by Soontir Fel, the father of Jagged “Jag” Fel, because she made a series of mistakes that Fel felt was treasonous to the Hand of the Empire (Thrawn’s Imperial Remnant). Onnelly Praji and her family were part of the effort to recolonize Byss, but the true purpose of the colony was for the colonists to be living batteries for Palpatine. Just like Shella, her fate is ultimately unknown. 
> 
> Zevulon “Zev” Veers is the son of General Maximillian Veers and an unnamed woman. When the mom dies, his dad buries his pain through Imperial service and tries to make Zev the model Imperial. He was forced to join the Empire’s Sub-Adult group (an analog to Hitler Youth), the youth branch of COMPNOR, and hated it. Eventually, he passes junior officer training and was then forced to join CompForce, the military branch of COMPNOR, and again hated it. A few months before Palpatine’s death, he defected to the Rebellion after being captured by some rebels and saw how compassionate they were. It’s not known what happened to him after 10 ABY, but his dad died during that year. In this, he’s Rama’s second best friend (the first being Mara Jade who isn’t on the trip because she’s a grade below them) and tries to keep Rama out of trouble. He fails miserably, but through no fault of his own. 
> 
> I know that the fight is anti-climactic, but Rama’s nine. Palpatine and Vader partially train him in the Force, but the rest of his training comes from Sate. He’s trained to be evasive and observant at his age, not to fight against someone like Maul.
> 
> Next chapter: Rama wakes up and spies upon Maul, while Sate finds out that his son is missing.


	3. Golden Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Screws are Rama's greatest foes.

The Nightbrother Chapter Two

**

Main Theme- In the Air Tonight by The Protomen

**

_The red and black Zabrak cannot speak, cannot walk, and cannot fight. He’s a babe wrapped in a dark blanket and held by pale arms. Darth Sidious gazes out a window into the molten landscape. Violent purple decorate his upper arms. Dried blood paint his upper lip like his own Scar of Remembrance. His golden eyes swirl darkly with emotions that the babe in his arms can’t comprehend. _

_But tears fall from those young eyes all the same. _

*

Rama pants heavily into the waking world. He takes deep breathes and releases them slowly to get his nerves under control. Like his father taught him.

_I’m calm. Now, where am I? _

He sees a dark, metal room that reminds him of Imperial interrogation chambers, but a little bigger and with an actual sleeper. There’s also a metal desk and a hoverchair. He looks above and sees a vent right by the locked door. He gets out of the sleeper and moves the hoverchair under the vent. He climbs onto it and stares up.

_Four screws and not a tool in sight._

He’s seen Vader splitting boulders with judicious application of the Force. His sire is such a master of it that he can create Force lightning. Unfortunately, he’s not as adept at the more physical aspects of the Force like the Sith Lords, but he’s fairly confident that he can loosen some screws.

He’s sweating by the time he’s loosen the last screw. 

The vent falls into his hands and he tosses it onto the sleeper. He squats and puts all the Force into his jump. His hands scrabble for the ledge, but he pulls himself into the ducts. As he crawls, he remembers a story that Kinman told about his sire. 

_He moved so fast in the vents like a greased-up snake. Even Sate couldn’t keep up with him. The Hapan Queen must’ve spooked him with her **appetite**! _

The vents he pass along the way only offer him snatches of the ship. One room is filled with droid parts. Another is a barely stocked kitchen. Another is a training room with broken droid parts. Another is a room very much like his room, but there are a lot of slashes in the walls.

Finally, he finds the cockpit.

_A holo-meeting is going on, but these are tiny representations like he’s watching through a spy’s feed. I see Marg Krim of the Pyke Syndicate, Prince Xizor of Black Sun, and the mysterious lady from the museum. I know the first two are part of the criminal underworld, so I guess she’s a head of an organization. Or a figurehead of one since the Zabrak is looming behind her holo. _

He wants to listen in, but there’s no sound. He sees that the Zabrak wears earbuds, red and black like his tattooed skin.

_The Iridonian Zabraks do not have full-body tattoos like that. Especially with Sith symbols. Where is he from? _

Rama looks away from the meeting to the viewport. He sees a world mottled by reds. Four moons orbit the ominous planet. He recalls only one world fitting this description. A world considered dead by the Empire.

_Dathomir_

*

Sate Pestage pours the creamer into his coffee and stirs with Rama’s favorite teaspoon, a slightly bent with a rose emblem. The purple mug touches his lips, but then his comm goes off. He sighs and puts his mug back onto the counter. He pulls out the comm and recognizes it to be the academy’s frequency.

_Are they soliciting donations again? It seems a little early in the year, but the Headmistress isn’t one to procrastinate. _

“This is Sate Pestage.”

_“Mr. Pestage, I’m afraid something’s happened with your son.” _

“W-What!?”

_“He’s missing.” _

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Comments- Here are the links: 
> 
> The Protomen’s cover for Phil Collins’s “In the Air Tonight” is amazing and should be heard by anyone who loves synth: [Link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7agiqfuQmQ)
> 
> Here is an image of the Rogue Shadow, which was Starkiller’s in The Force Unleashed videogame. That ship was based on Maul’s Scimitar in TPM, which was a Sith Infiltrator gifted to him by Darth Sidious. Sidious would have it recovered after the movie and keep it even after he becomes Emperor. I thought it suitable for Maul to have Rogue Shadow since it was designed to be a better version of his old ship and Starkiller doesn’t exist: [Link](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/a/a5/Rogue_Shadow.png/revision/latest?cb=20130918184414)
> 
> The abuse is hardly subtext in James Luceno’s Darth Plagueis and Joe Schreiber’s Maul: Lockdown. Anyways, Prince Xizor hails from Legends/EU like the aforementioned books and is detailed in Steve Perry’s Shadows of the Empire and in the first two books of The Bounty Hunter Wars trilogy. I found him far more interesting than his New Canon counterpart and far more of a worthy foe to Vader. Now, will he play a big role in this story? Not likely, but he does deserve a mention.
> 
> Next chapter: Rama finds out that the dead world is very much alive, while Sate breaks the news to the Emperor.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Comments- No links this time. 
> 
> Believe me, Palpatine will come to treasure those nauseatingly sweet moments between his Emissary and his son in the coming months. And Sate…………..poor, Sate. 
> 
> And let’s just say that there’s at least one member of the Pestage family that happens to be a fan of Lost Earth media and introduced Rama to Sailor Moon. 
> 
> But I’m finally going to write Maul! I’ve been claiming to do that for like two years now, but this year I’m writing him! And wouldn’t it be my luck if I don’t get around to updating until New Year’s Eve.   
Next chapter: a small detour leads to Rama coming across a lost family member.


End file.
